


Bum

by sharedwithyou



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier - Fandom
Genre: Afternoon Musicals, Drabble, F/M, Musing, No Angst, No Mindfuck, Plot What Plot, Prepping Self for Civil War, Without Music, everything is implied, way too short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 12:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6853936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100 words or less in preparation of destroying myself by watching Captain America: Civil War</p><p>Meet Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NeonSheep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonSheep/gifts).



> I'M DOING IT GUYS. I'M GOING IN. I'M GOING TO WATCH CIVIL WAR IN A FEW HOURS AND MOST LIKELY GET ABSOLUTELY REKT. WITHOUT BREKFAST.
> 
> this is a tiny short musing I wrote a few months ago reflecting on the first trailer. It involves Bucky and is not sad. There are no mindfucks.  
> It is probably the most positive I can see him ever since the last trailer (and probably for a while after I watch civil war tonight. Props to NeonSheep aka Sheepy for not spoiling it for me. And for mentally prepping me for the slaughterage of my heart because of how much I adore Iron Butt.) 
> 
> Anyway this is the shortest thing I've probably ever written but it is good and it has feels so enjoy!!! 
> 
> And prepare yourself for a. radio silence or b. onslaught of more angst fics because my heart esta roto
> 
> Leave me a comment lovelies!!!
> 
> XOXO Bucky (NOT THE ONE WHO'S GOING TO WRECK TONY)

“Need a light?”

 

You watched the man pat his pockets, making sure he didn’t already have a lighter.

 

“Here.” You pulled a cigarette from your pocket and handed it to him. He looked like he needed it.

 

“Thanks.” He stood awkwardly, waiting for the flicker as you flipped the little wheel. You took in his look; stringly, slightly greasy hair, faded coat, possibly a bum. Wandering outside of this shithole of a bar made sense.

 

“So what’s your excuse?” He tilted his head at your question, as you took a long draw and blew out a spout of smoke worthy of a whale. As if saying, you first. Sure, why not.

 

“Got kicked out.” For bashing a guy in the head after he told you could make you feel ‘good, real good.’

 

“So why are you hanging around?” The first real sentence out of his mouth; his voice was surprisingly firm, confident. If he was a vagrant, he knew his way around.

 

“Gotta show ‘em who’s boss.” You didn’t need to hang around in this craphole of a neighborhood, but you’d be an eyesore to those misogynistic bouncers all the same.

 

“Word.” He switched his cancer-stick to his other hand, and that’s when you first noticed it. Veteran; it figures. This country never knew how to take care of it’s own. Especially when those almost died to keep it safe.

 

“Army?”

 

“Special forces.” At least they’d given him a prosthetic, instead of letting him walk around with a stump like a freak. Looked pretty nice too; and he’d blinged it out with a star. Rad.

 

“Nice ink.”

 

He smiled dryly, and you looked into his eyes; looking for fury, despondence, or plain old grit. They were beady, black and unreadable.

 

He must have recognized that look; sizing him up. “You sure this is the right scene for you?”

 

“I can take care of myself.”

 

He chuckled, almost appreciatively. “Seeing as you let a creepy stranger bum a cig off you, I’d say so.”

 

“Hey. Give yourself some more credit. I offered.” You let the stench of the city mix with the smoke on your way down your lungs. 

 

He laughed again, and his face flickered through the sparks of ash. Not bad, on second glance. He must’ve been a looker before war chewed him up and spat him back out.

 

“Well, I’ll be on my way then.” Once more, the words came solid and sure of himself. Definitely not your average squatter. You felt your interest pique, slightly. But it could’ve been the nicotine talking.

 

So you nodded your head, giving him a casual goodbye.

 

As he sauntered off, you wondered what it was about him that seemed off; or better yet, special. Perhaps, even extraordinary.

 

When you looked back, though, he was already gone.

 

 

Eh, all’s well.

 

He was just a bum.

**Author's Note:**

> Be brave, me. Be brave.
> 
> RANDOM RAMBLINGS:
> 
> AHHHH I'M GONNA DO IT GUYS. PLEASE GIVE ME LOVE. AND LUCK. I'M REALLY REALLY REALLY FREAKING OUT OVER THIS.  
> MY LOVE FOR TONY KNOWS NO BOUNDS.  
> PERHAPS SPIDEY WILL HELP ME OUT?  
> HMM DOUBT IT. IT'S TONY FREAKING STARK. OH GOD HELP.
> 
> ALSO GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS LITTLE DRABBLE BECAUSE I THINK IT CAN LEAD TO SOMETHING MORE  
> ONCE I GET OVER MY PAIN  
> I CAN'T EVEN WRITE A QUICK POLL
> 
> that's all this time lovelies!!
> 
> XOXO Bucky (SERIOUSLY THINKING ABOUT CHANGING MY NAME. BUT SINCE PHARM IS MY STEVIE I SHALL REMAIN. ALSO PLATYCAIT IS TONY)
> 
> p.s. special forces. pfft. if only.


End file.
